Kids Say The Darndest Things

I was doing some work for a friend of mine the other day and heard a young man say something that I thought was just great.

As we were working that afternoon out in the field my friends nephew came out to see what we were doing. This young boy is about 9 or 10 years old. I hadn't seen him in a long while and he came up to greet me. I noticed that he had a full leg brace on one of his legs and asked him what happened. He told me that he had fractured his knee cap. Immediately I was thinking about how painful that would be. I myself have never broken a bone(knock on wood), but I can't imagine what a fractured knee cap would feel like. Anyway, I went on to ask him how this injury of his had come about and he told me that it happened playing baseball. I joked with him about how at least he had a good sports injury story to tell the girls and he just laughed. Then he went on to tell me that it happened while sliding into home. Before I could say another word he said, "Well hey, at least I scored," and if I remember correctly he scored the winning run for his team. I loved his response. Here is a 9 or 10 year old kid that wanted to win. He had gotten hurt in the process and who knows maybe cried(I probably would have... it's a fractured knee cap) but looking back on his injury he was at least able to say that he layed it all on the line to help his team win. I think this is something that is truly lacking in little league sports today. The kids have no desire to win and no hatred for losing. Which is what I believe to be some basic yet vitally important lessons to be learned in little league. I just thought I would share this story with you. I enjoyed my conversation with the young man and he let me know that there is still that will and desire out there.

Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.

-Lance Armstrong

It's How you Play the Game that Counts

My mom found this around the house tonight and gave it to me to read. I think it was sent to her through e-mail a while back and she printed it off to have a hard copy. It was entitled "It's How You Play the Game That Counts" and this is how it reads:(It is somewhat lengthy but it is well worth it.)

Donald Jenson was struck in the head by a thrown bat while umpiring a Little League game in Terre Haute, Indiana. He continued to work the game, but later that evening was placed in a hospital by a doctor. while being kept overnight for observation, Jenson wrote the following letter:

Dear Parent of a Little Leaguer:
I am an umpire. I don't do it for a living, but on Saturdays and Sundays for fun.
I've played the game, coached it and watched it. But somehow, nothing takes the place of umpiring, Maybe it's because I feel that deep down I'm providing a fair chance for all kids to play the game without disagreements and arguments.
With all the fun I've had, there is still something that bothers me about my job..... Some of you folks don't understand why I'm here. Some of you think I'm there to exert authority over your son or daughter. For that reason you often yell at me when I make a mistake, or encourage your son or daughter to say things that hurt my feelings.
How many of you really understand that I try to be prefect? I try not to make mistakes. I don;t want your child to feel that he got a bad deal from an umpire.
yet no matter how hard I try, I can't be perfect. I counted the number of called I made in a sex-inning game today. The total number of decisions, whether on balls and strikes or safes and outs, was 146.
I tries my best to get them all right, but I'm sure I missed some. When i figured out my percentage on paper, I could have missed eight calls today and still got about 95 percent of the calls right....In most occupations that percentage would be considered excellent. If I were in school, that grade would receive an "A" for sure.
Bout your demands are higher than that. Let me tell you more about my game today.
There was one real close call the ended the game...a runner for the home team was trying to steal the plate on a passed ball. the catcher chased the ball down and threw to the pitcher covering the plate. the pitcher made the tag, and I called the runner out.
AS I was getting my equipment to leave, I overheard one of the parents' comments: "It's too bad the kids have to lose because of rotten umpires. that was one of the lousiest calls I've ever seen."
Later at the concession stand, a couple of kids were telling their friends, "Boy the umpires were lousy today. they lost the game for us."
The purpose of Little League is to teach baseball skills to young people. Obviously, a team that does not play well in a given game, yet it given the opportunity to blame that loss on an umpire for one call or two, is being given the chance to take all responsibility for the loss from its shoulders.
A parent or adult leader who permits the younger player to blame his or her failures on an umpire, regardless of the quality of that umpire, is doing the worst kind of injustice to the youngster....Rather than learning responsibility , such an attitude is fostering an improper outlook towards the ideals of the game itself. The irresponsibility is bound to carry over to future years. As I sit here writing this letter, I am no longer as upset as I was this afternoon. I wanted to quit umpiring. But fortunately, my wife reminded me of another situation that occurred last week.
I was behind the plate, umpiring for a pitcher who pantomimed his displeasure at any call on a borderline pitch that was not in his team's favor. One could sense that he wanted the crows to realize that he was a fine, talented player who was doing his best to get along, and that I was a black-hearted villain who was working against him.
The kid continued in this vein for two innings.... while at the same time yelling at his own players who dared to make a mistake. for two innings, the manager watched this. When the kid returned to the dugout to bat in the top of the third, the manager called him aside.
In a loud enough voice that I was able to overhear, the lecture went like this: "Listen, Son, it's time you made a decision. you can be an umpire, or an actor, or a pitcher. But you can only be one at a time when you're playing for me. Right now it is your job to pitch, and you are basically doing a lousy job. Leave the acting to the actors, the umpiring to the umpires, or you don't do any pitching here. Now what is it going to be?"
Needless to say, the kid chose the pitching route and went on to win the game. When the game was over the kid followed me to my car. Fighting his hardest to keep back the tears, he apologized for his actions and thanked me for umpiring his game. He said he had learned a lesson that he would never forget.
I can't help bu wonder.... how many fine young men are missing their chance to develop into outstanding ballplayers because their parents encourage them to spend time umpiring, rather than working harder to play the game as it should be played.


The following morning, Donald Jenson died of complications from a brain concussion.

Learning Mental Toughness in Little League

Mental toughness is a vital part to success in both sports and life. Yet, sadly enough, kids in today's world don't learn mental toughness at an early age. If you go to any little league park today you won't find very much mental toughness being taught to kids. We live in a world where no matter how a kid does his parents are always telling him how great he is. Growing up if I was 0-4 at the plate my dad didn't tell me how great I was, but rather drive home wasn't so pleasant. Now my father didn't just flat out yell at me. That's not the way to go about things either. But he did make sure I knew how and when I had messed up that day. It wasn’t something I always wanted to hear, but I knew my dad knew the game and knew much more than I did. Of course I was a kid so I let some things just go in one ear and out the other, but there were some things that stuck with me. By doing this my father was developing my mental toughness. If he had told me how well I did when I had done horrible then I wouldn't have learned anything about failure and perseverance. He didn't give me the ol' line, "Well you did your best and that's all I can ask for," because he knew I could do better. By him letting me know where I had messed up I then knew what I needed to fix. Now granted I didn't always fix it on the first try (actually it was very rare that I ever fixed it on the first try). Sometimes he would tell me things "till he was blue in the face," as he said, but I did learn what needed to be fixed. I truly believe that that helped prepare me for my future life. I learned that when I made a mistake it wasn't ok and I didn't deserve a pat on the back. I needed to sit down, reevaluate myself and fix the problem. Now I'm human and I can't say that I have fixed every mistake that I have ever made, but I feel that I have the tools to do so simply because I wasn't told good job when it wasn't due. I learned more from little league than you could imagine. I firmly believe that if we help develop a kids mental toughness at an early age then they will grow into much more capable adults. I thank my dad for giving me that gift. I didn't always enjoy the car rides home after a bad day at the ballpark, but what he told me I always needed to hear.